


clever.

by honeybatts



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Drabble, One Shot, blood warn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 02:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15653472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybatts/pseuds/honeybatts
Summary: trapped by bandits with no way of escaping, edie the redguard and goliath the nord find themselves in a pickle when the moon starts to rise.





	clever.

        They were clever bandits. Too clever for their own good, if you asked either of them–they didn’t need traps, or brute force, they simply sent out single distressing rumor and set up one room, just one, to lead them in. What they found in that room was a scathing note from the aforementioned clever bandits, a locked door with no visible way out, and a very dangerous time bomb in the shape of one Companion Nord named Goliath. Once a friend (or, at least, what the assassin would consider a friend–to be honest, the requirements weren’t that daunting), now a possible enemy when night covers the land in silky blankets of darkness–and moonlight.

        Weighing his options, the Redguard knew that a fight was out of the question: even on a bad day, the Nord had brawn and bulk backing him up in a fight, where Edie himself could hope for an opening using speed, magic, and stealth. But stealth, in a small, circular room? Magic? Speed? It was no contest, and attesting to what he’s seen the brute can do to highwaymen and dragons alike once the moon rises? He stood no chance.

        Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his friend wince in pain, no doubt his bones and muscles creaking and yearning to change shape and form, to stretch and tighten like an animal. By the Divines, that looked like it hurt. When Edie contracted some Sanguinare Vampiris from a batty looking mage in some dusty cavern, he remembered barely being able to control an ever-worrying lust for blood, and was barely able to fight it before he got to see a priest in Whiterun to cure him. For Goliath to fight a physical transformation, as well as a mental one? Nocturnal preserve him, that took a will that Edie himself just didn’t bear.

        He tried soothing words. He tried telling the Nord how much he admired his will and strength, how highly he thought of him. Remember that debacle at the Thalmor Embassy? Divines, he didn’t know where he’d be if Goliath didn’t show up, fighting off that Frost Troll at the end. That got a bark of laughter from him, at least–or was it a snarl? Fuck. He kept talking, inching his way away from the writhing Companion, and soon his words became less soothing, more desperate, more sincere. They were last words. He supposed he wanted someone to hear them.

        It was appropriate that it was Goliath.

        He thanked him, quietly. For everything, he supposed. From when he lost his head after Molag Bal made him kill that priest over, and over, and over. For dealing with his numerous tight and delicate situations. He hoped that he was able to meet up with that woman from before–you remember her, don’t you, even now? The pretty one, with black hair. The Imperial. She likes you, he thought.

        No matter how many last words that Edie spewed, the moon still rose. Goliath’s will would have to slip eventually, and only one of them would leave in the morning, splattered with blood. Either way, the bandits won. Either way, Edie knew it wouldn’t be him.

        Such goddamn, clever bandits.

        But as the bandits where clever, Edie was clever, too. Goliath’s will did slip and with a terrible howl and stomach-churning cracks of bones and muscles, he turned into the Beast that the Companions made him sip from. If it weren’t for the desperation of the moment, he would have admired the hulking creature as a thing of terrible beauty… however, when one is close enough to the terrible beauty to see it’s foaming mouth and red, bloodshot eyes, it’s maw lined with teeth the size of his index finger, it’s hard to see anything but one’s Death at hand.

        The creature that was once Goliath swiped at him, aiming to disembowel his belly to sate it’s bloodlust, but with a quick spring back, the assassin dodged the attack–only to have his back met with cold cobblestone wall. Fuck. The chamber was large enough to allow the both of them enough room to dance about in a game of ‘attack and dodge’, but sooner or later, Edie knew that he’d slip up. He’d trip on a loose tile, or in a moment of hopelessness, fumble, and allow the creature to spring upon him. He’d tire eventually. Werewolves–or whatever manner of beast this was–probably didn’t.

        With his back against the wall in a most ironic and literal sense, facing down terror itself in the form of a colossal beast-man, there was a glimmer. A small one. A terrible one. Cautiously, he reached for his dagger–no, no, what was he thinking? He couldn’t hurt it that bad, underneath all that muscle and fur was that Nord oaf somewhere, and to blind him with a dagger would be permanent, wouldn’t it? 

        By the Divines, there was no time for indecision–

        It was now or never.

        A quick movement and a throaty howl of pain coming from deep within the maw of the beast, Edie rolled away right before a good four-hundred pounds of muscle, teeth, and bone came crashing into the wall, desperately swiping at it’s face in pain. 

        Magelight. Cast it wherever, and it’ll stick–especially to the face of an advancing monster.

        Time was of the essence, even more so. His life not immediately threatened by a thrashing blinded animal, he gave himself a moment to climb atop the thin and rickety door frame and perch there to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. Lasting through the night wasn’t an option, nor was killing the poor brute. Time was wearing thin, it’d only be blinded for so long, and already it’s rampaging all throughout the chamber, leaping at nothing, crashing into walls with no direction–

        Oh.

        It’s a dangerous thought.

        With his hands planted firmly on the frame, he suspended himself in the air, the heels of his boots kicking back against the stone door, the sound punctuating the myriad of growls and snarls. That’s what the monster needed, wasn’t it? A place to go, and he was certainly giving it one. The beast-man turned, Magelight still burning in it’s eyes, and from the back of the chamber, charged at the clattering door with a determined fierceness that can only be elicited in a starving animal looking for it’s next meal. The door crumbled under foot, and with a howl, the beast was free to feast upon the shocked bandits waiting outside–pausing just long enough to see which one was dead and pick their bodies when morning came.

        Edie couldn’t tell, though–he hadn’t been fast enough. When the former Nord took down the door, Edie’s legs had gotten caught up in it’s wanting claws, and tore him down for his perch. Skull connected unpleasantly with stone. Warmth drained from his fingertips and onto the floor in a large, sticky pool. Sound was muffled–but at least the beast was free, he could hear that much.

        Quietly and none too quickly, the world grew dark for Edie.

        He was not clever enough.

**Author's Note:**

> wow hi! so this is the oldest piece of writing i have, being something like... seven years old? but it feels right that its the first piece that i post here! i hope you enjoyed!!


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